The dance floor was hot and crowded, but Cari barely noticed the sweaty bodies bumping into her or the choking haze of smoke filling the air.

He was here.

She hadn’t seen him yet, but she could feel Joe’s presence the moment he stepped into the club. Over the course of their previous meetings—a handful of dates to have dinner or go dancing under the watchful eyes of Freddie and Neddie—she’d grown extraordinarily attuned to his nearness.

Her father would, no doubt, get a full report from Freddie and Neddie that the American had shown up again and the two of them had danced the night away together.

As she’d anticipated, her father had been highly suspicious of Joe and grilled her mercilessly about the new man in her life. But as she limited her attentions exclusively to Joe and all the reports from the guards said he steadfastly treated her with gentlemanly restraint, Eduardo seemed to relax.

Well, her father relaxed a little. It wasn’t in the man’s nature ever to let down his guard more than, oh, a millimeter or so. The good news was Eduardo was letting her see Joe. Maybe her father was actually making amends in a small way for murdering Tony in her bed. Or maybe he was just relieved that she was finally dating a straight man. Or maybe he just didn’t care what she did, as long as she stayed out of his way and didn’t interfere in his business. Sadly, she was fairly certain it was the latter.

Of course, the night Joe had sent her home to put on a more modest dress and then rejoin him for their date had gone a long way toward softening Eduardo’s attitude about the American—just like Joe had predicted it would.

If anything, she thought she’d caught a glimpse of relief in her father’s expression when she’d told him over dinner tonight that she was going out with Joe again.

Who would’ve thought that, in just a few weeks, her would-be rescuer could worm his way into her father’s good graces without ever meeting the man? She had to admit it. Joe was slick. He’d nailed exactly what would make her father let down his guard and maybe even trust Joe—as much as Eduardo was capable of trusting anyone.

But she still doubted Eduardo would buy the idea of a quickie marriage between them? Even Joe wasn’t that good. That part of their plan still worried her. A lot.

She and Joe had struck up a lively Internet conversation, but it was hard to do more than trade heavily edited essentials of their life histories with Eduardo’s security men monitoring every post. Joe had fed her a rather sordid tale about being an ex-firefighter who’d been wrongly accused of arson. He had come to Gavarone in search of a new start in life, and was currently “consulting” with various business owners in St. George, designing security and fire alarm systems for them.

Having met the man, she didn’t have the slightest doubt that it was all a load of bull.

The weird bit was that, in spite of all the time she’d spent with him, she still didn’t know any more about the real Joe than she had when she’d first met him. He was extraordinary in getting her to talk about herself, but always managed to turn the talk away from himself when she tried to learn even the smallest thing about him floating in the ocean late at night.

Recently, Joe had resortedShe wanted to taking her to the loudest dance clubs in town, and she was pretty sure he was doing it so they couldn’t talk to each other in anything other than snippets of conversation shouted over the music.

She would love to do more regular dating stuff with him where they could talk more. But Eduardo knew her pattern. He knew she primarily went out with men to dance, and nothing more. Joe counseled against changing her pattern too drastically, and continued taking her out to dance clubs. He might not want to talk with her, but she could work with dancing. As a form of seduction, it wasn’t half bad—if a girl was a bold and sexy dancer. Which she was.

She’d been glad when Joe suggested they meet at this particular nightclub, tonight. It played the hottest house music this side of the equator and was the sort of place where they could go a little crazy with each other. Joe might be satisfied to take his time, but she was eager to ratchet their relationship up to the next level—to a heat that would justify their elopement to Eduardo.

Riigghhtt. She wanted to go to a sexy dance club and drape herself all over Joe purely in the interest of promoting his safety.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was wildly attracted to her future husband. Future husband. At first, that phrase had felt strange and foreign to her, but over the last few days, the sound of it had been getting more and more comfortable.

She was also getting more and more comfortable with the idea of being infatuated with Joe. Hey, why not go with the feeling? It would make their marriage act that much more believable to her father when the time came.

So, she mooned around the house all day, dreaming about him, and she cheerfully let her father rib her about it. She spent hours trying on dresses until she found the perfect one, and she let the maids tease her about that, too.

The other reason Cari was glad they were going somewhere steamy tonight was that Joe’s impeccable restraint was starting to get on her nerves. She liked to think of herself as reasonably attractive, but he seemed completely impervious to that fact. It was all well and good to be hot and bothered over him, but it would be nice if he returned a smidgen of the same attraction for her.

The song blaring out of the club’s oversized speakers ended. Where was Joe hiding? He had to be around here somewhere. She pushed through the crowd in search of him, but the club was packed and it was slow going, dodging the gyrating bodies around her.

Where was Joe? She couldn’t see him through the press of people around her. But he was near. She could feel it. She got short of breath just thinking about touching that gorgeous body of his again. He was such a contrast to the beefy brutishness of her bodyguards. Joe’s was the toned fitness of an athlete. He was muscular but lean, powerful yet graceful.

She smoothed her palms down the red Marilyn Monroe-style halter dress she’d agonized all day over choosing. She hoped it would shake Joe up a bit tonight. Okay, shake him up a lot. If it didn’t, she gave up. The guy would officially be priest material.

In their meetings so far, he’d been a total gentleman with her. Not once had she caught him checking her out on the sly, and he’d been unfailingly polite with her. Her father might be eating it up, but she’d about had it with the squeaky-clean routine.

Sure, he leaned close and threw her the occasional heated look, but those were purely for the benefit of her bodyguards and the whole cover story of their falling madly in love. He always apologized under his breath after the fact. Apologized, for God’s sake!

No more apologies tonight, buster.

They were supposed to be having a steamy, whirlwind romance, for crying out loud. The idea was for people to witness them hanging all over each other so her father would buy the story when they told him they’d eloped.

Besides, her gut said Joe was capable of more real passion than he was showing. Much more. Right now, she needed more than nice from him. She needed fire. Sizzle. Enough to convince her father not to kill him out of hand. Enough to reassure her that she hadn’t completely lost her feminine allure. And most of all, enough to satisfy the desire roiling restlessly in her stomach.

It was definitely time to shake up Mr. Joe Smith.

Freddie and Neddie had split up as they always did when she came to this particular disco. One covered the front entrance, and the other took the back door so she couldn’t sneak out on them. Which was perfect for her purposes, tonight. It put both men clearly in sight of the dance floor but not close enough to interfere when she went after Joe.

The song changed. A slow ballad that paired up the sweaty bodies hemming her in. Finally, an escape path opened up for her. She’d almost reached the edge of the dance floor when a warm hand touched her bare shoulder. Pleasure ripped through her. Ah, she knew that touch. Craved it.

She smiled and turned around to greet Joe. As usual, her breath stuck in her throat at the sight of him. Tonight, he wore a casual white shirt and crisply pressed, navy trousers. He blended in perfectly with the rich playboy types who frequented this exclusive club.

With a smile that would melt rock into quivering lava, he drew her politely into his arms and swayed to the music of the ballad blasting around them.

Enough already with the careful dance-class distance between them! Carina plastered herself against him from shoulder to knee. And sucked in a sharp breath. Oh, my. His body was flexible steel against hers, and his shirt clung to muscular shoulders and a set of pecs her father’s goons would kill for.

He stared down at her in surprise, and she stared back in challenge. Then a slow smile came across his features and he relaxed into the dance with her. Why did she get the distinct feeling she’d just unlocked a door with something dangerous lurking behind it?

The song changed tempo and a driving Cuban beat pounded through Joe’s body into hers. But instead of letting her go, he pulled her even closer against him. It was a good thing his powerful arm circled her waist or she would’ve been in real danger of her legs failing as delicious sensations shot through her entire body.

She gasped as he spun her around in a fast Latin dance. Now where in the world did he learn to dance like that? In their previous meetings, he’d never given any hint of knowing how to do this. Huh. He was a man of many talents. She would definitely lay odds some of those talents extended to the bedroom.

He whirled her around, spinning her out to the end of his fingertips and then flicking her back in like a yo-yo on a string. As quickly as his body heat disappeared, it was back. His hand on the small of her back pressed her so close against him that she practically rode his rock-hard thigh. He lifted her against him as he spun around the room, her feet barely skimming the floor.

“Dizzy?” he murmured into her ear, his breath a hot caress against her neck.

“Yes. No. Not from the dancing,” she managed to get out.

He laughed and twirled her away from him again, then gathered her close once more. His thigh rubbed against hers intimately, igniting fireworks low in her belly. Flames of desire licked at her, threatening to consume her completely. Not fair. He looked completely in control, totally unaffected by their spicy dance.

She ran her fingernails across the back of his neck and she might as well have ruffled a tiger’s fur. Abruptly, his eyes blazed and sexual vibes poured off of him, hot and thick and possessive. Now that was more like it!

Women around them on the dance floor ogled him even more blatantly. All but purring herself, she leaned into him until his shirt caressed her breasts through the flimsy fabric of her dress.

The music blared and the rhythm pounded through her in time with her body’s pulsing need. The drums beat low in her belly, while the Cuban horns blared across her skin and the singer’s voice shivered down her spine. Faster and faster the music played, driving her lust higher and higher with a need to be naked and sweaty with this man.

It was sex on a dance floor, and it was UHH-mazing.

Joe’s eyes reflected same near-orgasmic pleasure she was experiencing. Thank God. She would hate to be this turned on and be alone in reacting like this. She felt the bulge of Joe’s reaction to her behind the zipper of his trousers, and her knees almost did give out then.

Whoa. Tony never had reacted to her like that. It was part of the reason she’d always preferred going out with gay men. They didn’t get turned on by her and there were so many less complications in the relationships. She used her gay buddies to get visibility with the press, and they used her for fame or a free ride—she always paid for their outings—or maybe to disguise their sexual orientation. She hadn’t much cared what they’d gotten out of spending time with her.

But her habit of hanging out with gay men meant she was much less prepared to handle Joe’s aggressively sexual reaction to her than she let on. The world saw her as a barracuda around men. Truth was, she was more of a minnow than anyone knew.

The music finally ended and Joe’s arm loosened enough for her to slide down his muscular leg to Earth once more. He led her to the bar on the far side of the dance floor, away from both of her bodyguards. She wobbled alongside him, hardly able to walk. Oh. My. God. What had just happened to her? She’d never experienced anything remotely like that— in public or private—with any man.

“Good thing I’m already planning to marry you,” he shouted in her ear as he handed her one of two glasses of ice water he snagged from a bartender.

“Why?” she shouted back.

“After a dance like that, I would feel obligated as a gentleman to marry you.”

Her face heated abruptly. Busted. She had set out to get his attention. Apparently, she’d succeeded.

“In case I forgot to mention it, you look spectacular tonight,” he yelled in her ear.

“Thank you,” she answered, strangely shy of the compliment from him. “You look pretty great yourself.”

He reached out to tuck a strand of her hair back from her face. He put his mouth on his ear, his lips moving against the sensitive flesh so sexily that lightning bolts slammed into her lady parts, zinging wildly through her body.

“I got our marriage license today. I also have a judge standing by day or night to hear our vows.”

Wow. He had a judge on call? How did he pull that off in this town? She thought her father owned all the judges in St. George. In all of Gavarone, for that matter.

He continued, interrupting her speculation. “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll get married.”

She blinked. The words were a bizarre and wonderful fantasy coming out of this gorgeous man’s mouth. He was the kind of guy she might like hearing those words from for real. Someday. When she was ready for a permanent relationship.

“When did you have in mind?” she shouted.

His answer was brisk. “The sooner the better.”

Fear erupted in her belly. God. This was real. She was going to elope with this man. It was an extreme plan, and could elicit an extreme reaction from Eduardo. Next time it could be Joe—or her—lying in that bed in a pool of blood.

Joe’s lips were moving against her ear again, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “I don’t like you being in that house all alone with your father. The faster I can get in there to protect you, the better.”

She turned her head and returned the favor, plastering her mouth against his ear. “I’m hardly alone in the house. My father has a half-dozen full-time house servants, and wads of his…employees hang around all the time.”

“His armed, dangerous and not-too-bright henchmen, you mean?”

She laughed at the description. “Exactly.”

“Like I said, the sooner the better,” he ground out. His jaw rippled as he stared down into his glass of water.

Warmth bubbled up inside her. Joe sounded genuinely worried about her. That was so sweet. If only the idea of walking into her father’s office and saying, “Guess what, Daddy? I got married today” didn’t make her ill to even imagine, she would be feeling a lot better about this whole scheme.

“Why the frown, princess?” Joe yelled. “You look worried.”

She sighed. “I was just thinking about how my father will react to all this.”

Joe shrugged. “He’ll be pissed off and suspicious as hell. But I’m telling you, I think he’ll secretly be relieved. We just have to watch our step and not give away that it’s a ruse. One slip-up is all it’ll take.”

No doubt about it. A single misstep would land them both in her bed with slit throats.

She put her hand on his forearm, which rested on the bar beside her. She leaned forward, speaking urgently. “You have no idea how violent my father is. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

His dark eyes blazed, pinning her against the bar. “Yes. I do. And baby, I know exactly how violent Eduardo Ferrare is.”

His sudden intensity startled her. Usually Joe was so calm and unruffled. Where had all that abrupt fury come from? A frisson of doubt raced through her. Was there was more going on here than Joe simply wanting to rescue her?

If he was, in fact, with the Blackjacks, then there was some serious bad blood between Joe and her father. Eduardo had killed a member of the Blackjacks years ago, and the way she heard it, the Special Forces team had never forgiven him for it.

What was Joe’s hidden agenda? Did he mean to physically hurt her father in some way? Kill him, even? Did she dare go ahead with this whole eloping thing and put Eduardo at risk?

He might be a criminal and a bastard, but he was her father, after all. The only parent she’d ever known. Was she ready to see him die just so she could live her own life in peace?

Unlike her father, she didn’t hold life cheaply. She was no murderer who could casually stand by and watch another human being—even one as awful as her father—die.

She sighed. She had no doubt at all that this was her last and only chance to escape her father. She took the risk now, or she resigned herself to living out the remainder of her life as her father’s prisoner.

Could she do that? Could she sacrifice herself rather than put her father at risk? Did he deserve such a sacrifice from her? God knew, Eduardo hadn’t earned it.

No matter what risk Joe posed to her or her father, she had to pay the price and jump at the chance he had offered her.

She would act as Joe’s cover inside her father’s house while he accomplished his secret goal, whatever it was. And, in return, he would help her accomplish her secret goal—escape.

She wanted out. And Joe?

What did he want?

Her intuition screamed that it involved hurting her father in some way. Was her freedom worth that guilt?

As her thoughts whirled, Joe’s arm slid around her waist once more. “Can I interest you in another dance?”

As if he had to ask twice! Her lips curved into a smile. “Let’s go, Mr. Astaire.”

Joe grinned. “After you, Ginger.”

She felt him watching her hips as she sashayed toward the floor in front of him. Finally. At last, the guy was showing normal male interest in her!

She blinked away a sudden, weepy sensation that didn’t go at all with her devil-may-care, little-rich-girl act. Her mask firmly in place once more, she looked around to gauge the crowd’s reaction to the hot vignette playing out between her and Joe.

Ah, all the world’s a stage. At least, in her world it was.

Gavarone’s superrich social set was actually quite small. Inbred, the lot of them. Everybody knew everyone else. So when a newcomer—especially one as spectacularly handsome as Joe—showed up and staked out a woman as notorious as her for himself, it got noticed in a big way.

And then, of course, there were Freddie and Neddie. Hopefully, as long as Joe’s attention stayed firmly glued to her, he would be safe from the loving attention of their fists. She seriously didn’t want to find out what her father’s orders to the thugs were if Joe happened to show interest in some other woman after showing such intense and public interest in her.

Joe’s fingers trailed up her arm, and then he looked at her with sharp concern. “You okay?”

“Why do you ask?” she replied.

“You have goose bumps. You can’t possibly be cold in this gaudy sweat pit.”

She grinned at the description of the posh club. She’d always thought the place’s neon decor was a little garish, too. “It’s nothing,” she assured him.

He gave her a speculative look. And then dropped her jaw with his next words. “Let’s get married tonight.”

“Tonight?” she squeaked.

“Sure. Why not?”

Her mind went completely blank. Fear crowded forward in her head until it all but choked her. It was one thing to think about lying to her father, but the reality of it was another thing entirely. Was she truly prepared to go through with Joe’s scheme? To face down her father’s wrath? To make the break for real?

It hit her like a sledgehammer that, at some level, she’d known all along the plan with Tony wouldn’t work. Somehow, she’d known her father would find out and foil it. She hadn’t anticipated how violently he would react, but she’d known subliminally that Eduardo would stop her.

Joe, on the other hand…

This guy might actually be able to deliver on his promise. He could get her out once and for all. For the first time ever, she truly faced the prospect of making the break with her father.

As violent and cruel a man as he was, he was still the man who’d raised her. It wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be to walk away from him forever. God, she’d had no idea she was this brainwashed. She frowned.

Joe swore quietly beside her. She looked up, surprised. “What?” she asked.

“I know that look. It’s cold feet if I ever saw it. Don’t lose your nerve on me now, princess. We’re in too deep to back out.”

“No, we’re not,” she argued. “You can just walk away and you’ll be safe. My father will never know a thing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Joe growled. He turned her around, his hands encircling her waist, and nodded toward the front door.

Cari looked in the direction he indicated. And gulped. Freddie and Neddie had their heads together and were staring straight at her and Joe. Both men’s faces were thunderous. As she looked on, Freddie pulled out a cell phone and pressed it to his ear.

Oh, God.

He said quietly, “That smoking hot dance of ours crossed the line. We have no choice but to go forward now.”

“Joe, get out of here right now. They’re calling my father. If you’re lucky, they’ll just put you in the hospital for a few weeks, but if you’re not lucky…”

Joe chuckled.

She stopped midsentence. And stared at him in shock.

“You’re laughing about this?” she demanded incredulously. “They’re telling my father right now that we’ve been pawing all over each other in public. He’s going to tell them to kick your teeth down your throat. This is serious!”

Joe smiled down at her gently. “Thanks for worrying about me, sweetheart, but those two jerks couldn’t hurt me if they tried. I’d put them flat on their backs in ten, maybe twenty, seconds.”

Cari rolled her eyes. “Don’t you go all macho on me, Joe Smith. Those guys are both street fighters.”

He laid a finger on her lips, stopping any further protests from her. “Trust me. They don’t pose a threat.”

She frowned.

His grin widened. “Wanna really give them something to stew over?”

Her eyebrows raised in question, but that was all the response she had time for before he leaned down swiftly and captured her mouth with his.

Wow. Heat and man surrounded her completely, invading the darkest corners of her mouth and her mind. His lips and tongue were hot and demanding, nipping and stroking and sucking like she was the best ice-cream cone he’d ever tasted, all sweet and drippy and melting, and he was determined to capture every last drop of her.

Her knees turned to rubber and she leaned into him, tingling all over. She devoured him right back, and Lord, if her insides didn’t actually start to hum with desire.

She needed him like water in the desert. She hadn’t even known it, but her soul had been dried up, shriveled and parched, until he came along and breathed life back into her.

She all but inhaled him, right there on the spot. Her leg started to creep up, to wrap around his hips, to press her core against the hard bulge at her belly.

A sound that was part groan and part chuckle came from his throat. He lifted his mouth away from hers.

No, no, no! She had to have more of him right now! All of him!

Gently, his fingers wrapped around the back of her knee, disentangling it from around his thigh. His thumb gave a single caress to the sensitive skin behind the joint, sending white heat shooting up her thigh and straight to her core. Her breath hitched and his gaze snapped to hers, his eyes blazing black fire.

Oh, yes. They definitely had a spark between them. More like chain lightning.

He cleared his throat.

She clung to his shoulders, not because she was needy and trying to seduce him but because her legs were so weak she wasn’t sure they would bear her weight.

“Uh, well then,” he mumbled, “I think that pretty much seals the deal.”

“How’s that?” she managed to mumble back through the buzz of lust filling her ears.

“When Frick and Frack report to your old man that I just examined your tonsils with my tongue, in public, I’m betting daddy dearest will stick a shotgun in my face and make me marry you if I don’t beat him to the punch.”

Abruptly, she became aware of several hundred people staring at her as avidly as if she’d just grown horns and a third eye. Why was her skin crawling all of a sudden at the idea of all those gazes locked on her and Joe? She’d made a spectacle of herself plenty of times. She’d even laid hot kisses on guys in public before, back when Eduardo didn’t watch her every move, back before Julia disappeared. But tonight, the party-girl mask just wouldn’t stay on. It kept slipping away, leaving her raw emotions unprotected, her heart on display.

Her heart. Not an act. Not the public image that everyone always saw. But her. Carina. For real.

She never, ever, showed her true self to anyone. Not to her father. Not to rooms full of cynical, voyeuristic jetsetters, and certainly not to Joe. He was practically a stranger, for goodness’ sake! She barely knew him at all. And what she did know of him didn’t inspire a girl to think of happily ever after.

She vaguely realized that she was still bent half-backward over his arm, his strength supporting most of her weight. His body, hard and hot, pressed into her, branding itself on her memory, marking her as his.

And then with a quick bunching of his muscles, she was upright once more, whirling off onto the dance floor into a kaleidoscope of light and color. Music throbbed in time with the pulsing desire between her thighs. Her breasts ached for his hard chest against hers once more. She craved the taste of him on her tongue, and the feel of him on her skin.

With a snap of his strong wrist, he spun her away from him and pulled her back again. And then his other hand landed in the middle of her back, anchoring her sinfully tight against his body.

For all of her wild ways, she really had very little experience at seducing men. They always came on to her, the rich, spoiled brat whom they were sure would spread her legs for any man with the cash or the cool factor to earn the privilege.

God, she was jaded. How had she gotten that way at twenty-four? She felt a hundred years old.

For a change, she went with her instincts and went on the offensive with Joe. She wanted more of what she’d felt when he kissed her. A lot more. She ran her fingers up the back of his powerful neck into his silky hair and undulated her body against his.

It turned out her feminine intuition was right on target. Joe half growled, half laughed and pulled her even closer. He maneuvered her into the thick of the crowd of dancers, out of sight of her bodyguards, and his mouth descended, capturing hers again. He kissed her with his entire body this time, surrounding her in his strength and grace as they danced, locked together in a sizzling embrace.

She was so dizzy she could hardly stand by the time the song ended. Another tune cranked up and the people around them gyrated as Joe tore his mouth away from hers and stared down at her.

He looked as thunderstruck as she felt. Thank God.

In the din, she barely heard him say, “We definitely have to get married right now.”

He sounded like he was talking about a whole lot more than their plan to escape her father. Her heart stuttered in shock. Was he really as attracted to her as she was to him? The thought sent her head reeling even worse than it already was.

“C’mon,” Joe shouted over the music.

She followed along as he tugged her hand. He led her quickly off the dance floor and toward the back exit of the club.

They cleared the dance floor and the direct blast of the speakers. “What are you doing?” she asked him.

“Getting out of here,” he replied as he hustled her toward the door.

“But Neddie…”

“Is still wading across the dance floor with Freddie. Hurry!” he urged her.

“But the other guards…in the SUV...”

“Exactly. They’re in the SUV. Out front.”

“How do you know that?” she demanded. “They could be in the alley out back right now.”

“Only one way to find out. C’mon!”

The wildness he’d set loose in her still prowled in her veins, hungry. Insistent. She wanted this man. No matter what the cost. No matter what the consequences.

This was really dumb. Dangerous at best, suicidal at worst.

But she let him lead her off the dance floor and rush for the rear exit.

They burst outside, into the muggy warmth of the night. The sultry air stoked the lust zinging across her skin.

“This way,” he muttered.

She broke into a run beside him as he raced toward a side street. They ducked around the corner, out of sight of the club. She didn’t have any illusions about being safe, though. Freddie and Neddie were bulldogs who would never let go of their bone.

But when Joe yanked open the door of a dark, armored Mercedes with tinted windows, parked at the curb, and urged her inside, that did surprise her. The vehicle’s driver pulled away quickly. She looked out the back window in time to see Freddie careen into sight, huffing. But then their car turned a corner and her bodyguard disappeared from view.

She turned around to face front. Joe lounged casually beside her. He lifted an armrest and pulled a soft drink out of a concealed mini-cooler. “Thirsty?” he asked.

Joe had this whole escape planned before he came inside the club! Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had this car waiting for them. She ignored the soda, outraged. “You knew all along you were going to pull me out of there tonight, didn’t you?”

He frowned. “I wasn’t sure. I had a car waiting, just in case. An opportunity presented itself, so I seized it. Your father’s men are too careful to give us many chances to get away from them.” He peered at her in the dim interior. “Are you angry at me? I thought this was what you wanted.”

Joe’s hand captured hers gently, stilling it against his chest. She was arrested by the slow, steady thud of his heart under her palm. Not the heartbeat of a frightened man.

He said soothingly, “This plan isn’t only about getting you away from your father. It’s also about getting him to let you live your own life once and for all.”

Cari’s outrage subsided. She couldn’t blame the guy for being prepared. This was what she’d said she wanted, after all. “Where are we going?”

Joe looked her directly in the eye. His dark gaze was warm and compassionate. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, “and so damned young.”

Young? She hadn’t felt young in a long time. Living with her father aged a soul. Joe’s smooth voice caressed her, raising the fine hair on her forearms. She tingled all over.

“We’ve got an appointment with a judge, princess. We’re getting married, remember?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked up at him uncertainly. “Tell me this will work.”

“It will work. Trust me. I’m a thorough man. Careful.”

This car was ample evidence of that.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “This is your last chance to back out. You don’t owe me anything, Joe. I can’t be responsible for your death, too.”

“I’m not going to die. And neither are you, Carina.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” His smile would have lit the whole night sky if they were standing outside. “Last chance for you, too, Princess. Once we do this, we’ll be all in and have to follow through on the plan. Are you sure about this?

She stared at him, losing herself in the midnight depths of his eyes. He would take care of her. Keep her safe. Give her freedom. All of those promises swam in his gaze. But she saw something more in his eyes, too. Something male and possessive that made her hands tremble and her breath come in unsteady jerks. Something that made her pause a long time before she answered.

Finally, she took a deep breath and replied in a shaky voice, “Yes. I’m sure. Let’s do this.”